


A Very Winchester Anniversary

by kinksock22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Bottom Dean, Comeplay, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Lap Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Schmoop, Topping from the Bottom, Wincest - Freeform, mentions of past underage, mentions of switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5938870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinksock22/pseuds/kinksock22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for this prompt at the kink meme: <i>Sam wants to do something special to celebrate his and Dean's anniversary, but everything he tries to do just goes utterly wrong. Whether it's burning dinner, or getting injured (minorly) during dinner prep, or a poorly timed drop-in visit from Cas - anything and everything you can think of. And poor Dean - who really would have loved a simple evening at the Bunker with Sam and doesn't need over the top shenanigans - being unable to get upset or angry because Sam is just trying SO HARD. Maybe it's their first real celebration - they've not exactly had an easy life, after all - and Sam just wants it all to be perfect. Cue upset Sam and consoling big brother Dean, who just loves his Sammy so much all of the craziness doesn't even matter.</i></p>
<p>
  <i>If you do go smutty, I'm a sucker for bottom!Dean, although am a-okay with a total lack of smut as well (or bottom!Sam if that works better).</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Just, give me totally overwhelmed Sam who loves his brother and wants to SHOW him, and a Dean who's so head over heels with his little brother that none of it ends up mattering at all.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Winchester Anniversary

_Technically_ , Sam and Dean have been together since Sam was fourteen. There have been times when they’ve been exclusive and times when they haven’t. There have been times when they hadn’t been more than brothers. But no matter what, they always ended up coming back to each other, sometimes for the wrong reasons and sometimes for the right ones. But they’ve never been able to really stay apart for long.  
  
They never did the whole anniversary thing. They split up and came back together too many times to really have a good grasp on what the damn date would even be – in Sam’s more nostalgic, chick-flick moments, he counts it from the very first time he kissed Dean. But after the crap they’d been through in the last ten or so years, after they defeated the Darkness and things settled back down to just regular hunts, Sam decided that it was time to start keeping track, to start actually marking the occasion. They vowed to be exclusive and it was for keeps, for the rest of their lives. After nineteen years of on and off again, they finally made a commitment to each other.  
  
A year has passed since then and despite Dean’s continued aversion to all things emo and chick-flick, Sam wants to celebrate their first _official_ anniversary.  
  
He kisses Dean mostly awake and then finishes waking him the rest of the way with a slow, messy blow-job – just the way Dean likes it. He bounces out of bed before Dean can return the favor, smiling sweetly at his brother and pressing a kiss to his forehead, announcing that he’s going to make Dean breakfast in bed. Dean just smiles indulgently at him.  
  
Sam can admit that he’s never been great in the kitchen. He really never had to be. Dean always took care of him – then Jess and Amelia had – so he never bothered to learn. But he’s watched Dean often enough to be confident enough to make a simple breakfast.  
  
Things couldn’t go more wrong if he’d actually _tried_ to fuck everything up.  
  
Turns out pancakes aren’t as easy to flip as Dean makes it look – leaving a mess of batter smeared all over the stove, the counter and even the floor. Omelets are just as difficult – Sam’s pretty sure Dean would notice the broken shells. After nearly an hour, he manages to make Dean some only _slightly_ burnt toast and a cup of coffee – the coffee he can’t even take credit for, Dean set it the night before to turn itself on and brew.  
  
Sam’s cheeks burn with embarrassment as he brings Dean his measly offerings. Dean smiles and eats the toast – manfully hiding a grimace Sam notices – then pulls Sam back into bed and proceeds to suck his brains out through his cock.  
  
Dean makes lunch before Sam can even try – presenting him with a beautifully grilled burger and homemade fries. Sam tries to thank Dean with a nice, relaxing massage. But he forgot about Dean’s bum shoulder and the ticklish spots along his ribs. Dean kisses the frown off Sam’s lips and pushes him against the shelves of books and jerks him off.  
  
While Dean is in the shower later, Sam decides to try dinner this time. Dean made a lasagna and froze it a few days before, so really, how could Sam fuck up reheating something that’s already been made?  
  
Turns out, _a lot_.  
  
He burns his palm on the stove and cuts himself while trying to slice a loaf of bread for garlic bread when Cas pops in unannounced, right behind Sam, his gravelly voice making Sam jump and the knife to slice across the meat of his thumb. Deep enough that Dean has to get out of the shower and stitch him up. The bread ends up soaked in blood and Sam ends up burning the lasagna.  
  
He storms off to their bedroom, leaving a clearly confused Cas and an obviously worried Dean behind.  
  
Technically, Sam realizes that at thirty-four he’s entirely too old to pout like a teenager. But that doesn’t stop him from flopping down onto the bed, arms folded across his chest, tears stinging his eyes. He just wanted so badly to do something nice today for Dean, to show him how much he means to him. Turns out even when they have sort of settled down and have grown up, Sam’s still a massive fuck-up.  
  
Not five minutes of alone sulking time has passed before the door opens and Dean slips inside their bedroom – the room that used to be solely Dean’s. He’s smiling softly, lovingly, his eyes warm and a little liquid. Sam sniffles and looks away from him. Dean shuts the door behind him and crosses the room, sitting down on the mattress next to Sam, their thighs pressed together.  
  
“What’s up?” Dean asks softly, bumping their shoulders together.  
  
What’s up?! Has he _not_ been paying attention to the complete clusterfuck today has become?!  
  
Sam glances over, rolls his eyes so hard it kinda hurts, and huffs. “Why d’you even put up with me?” he asks miserably.  
  
“What’re you talkin’ about?” Dean asks, tone incredulous and confused.  
  
“I fuck up everything I try,” Sam whispers meekly. “Even when it’s not life or death. I can’t even get our damn anniversary right.”  
  
“Sammy,” Dean sighs, reaching out, one arm wrapping around Sam’s waist. Sam struggles half-heartedly but eventually lets Dean pull him close. “All I wanted today was just to hang out with you. Hell, that’s what I want every day,” he shrugs. “I… I know I don’t say it enough, but I love you, Sam. You don’t have to cook for me or do anything else besides just be here and be you.”  
  
“I just wanted to show you how much I love you,” Sam mutters, tucking his face under Dean’s chin. “You’ve always done so much for me…”  
  
Dean squeezes his arm around Sam’s waist and drops a kiss to the top of his head. “I’ve known you your entire life, baby boy,” Dean murmurs. “After all that we’ve been through, the fact that you’re still here shows me how much you care.”  
  
Sam sniffles once more then nuzzles under Dean’s jaw. “Sorry I screwed everything up,” he whispers.  
  
“You didn’t,” Dean argues. “You tried your best. That’s all I’ve ever asked of you.” They sit in comfortable silence for a while, Dean giving comfort and love and support and Sam happily taking it. “Ya know,” Dean says after an indeterminable amount of time, “we got a few hours left of our first official anniversary. What’d’ya say we celebrate it the way we should’a been doin’ all day?”  
  
Sam looks up, brow furrowed in confusion. Dean’s eyes are dark and he waggles his eyebrows, flashing Sam his best _how you doin’_ smirk. “Ya wanna?” Dean drawls. Sam can’t stop the laugh that follows. Dean isn’t offended though. If anything, his smirk grows even wider, even filthier.  
  
“With sweet talk like that, how can I resist?” Sam teases.  
  
“Bitch, you know I’m charming,” Dean snarks back, his eyes glittering with mischief and heat.  
  
Sam snorts but before he can come up with a retort, he finds himself on his back, Dean straddling his thighs. Sam is suddenly, painfully hard with just the _thought_ of where this is going. They switch it up pretty regularly but he can already tell how tonight is going to go.  
  
Dean doesn’t waste any time stripping them both down to bare skin – Sam thinks he hears a few buttons pop off and a few seams rip but he _so_ doesn’t care. His hands automatically curl around Dean’s lean hips when his brother crawls back on top of him, hard cocks brushing together. Sam’s already sweating and they’re both already leaking, making the slide between them nearly frictionless.  
  
“C’mon, baby boy,” Dean urges, reaching beneath the pillow to grab the lube, pressing the familiar bottle into Sam’s hand.  
  
Sam drops the lube onto the mattress, flashing Dean a smile when his brother frowns in confusion. “C’mere,” Sam whispers, tugging on Dean’s hips.  
  
Dean lets Sam pull him forward, eyes darkening impossibly more when he catches on, carefully climbing up Sam’s chest until his legs are on either side of Sam’s head. Sam reaches up and pulls Dean down, instantly burying his face in the cleft of his ass. Dean groans when Sam’s tongue darts out and laps at his hole, his hips twitching, thighs quivering. Sam licks and sucks at Dean’s rim, pushing his tongue in as soon as Dean starts to loosen, moaning at the sweat-salty, slightly musky taste of pure Dean. He can feel Dean trembling, can feel him jerking his cock and Sam reaches down to grab his own.  
  
Dean grunts and pulls away just enough to turn around, resettling with his ass still in front of Sam’s face but his mouth at Sam’s dick. Sam grabs both cheeks of Dean’s pert ass and pulls him open, licking deep, moaning when Dean swallows him down almost all the way to the root right off the bat. Sam shifts his hold just slightly, thumbs pulling Dean’s rim open wider as Dean slips one arm beneath Sam’s thigh, two fingers pressing and teasing at Sam’s entrance. Dean’s throat ripples around the head of Sam’s cock as just the tips of his fingers breach Sam and he’s so close his balls are starting to ache from holding back and they need to move this along. _Now_.  
  
Dean groans when Sam pulls away, lightly swatting him on the hip. But he takes the hint and turns around, grabbing the lube himself. Sam’s eyes widen and his lips part as Dean slicks his fingers and reaches behind himself, Dean’s eyes fluttering closed as he obviously pushes his fingers into his own hole. Sam sits up enough to reach back, feeling where Dean’s got three fingers working in and out of himself and damn-near comes just from that.  
  
“God,” Sam breathes. “C’mon, Dean. Fuck…”  
  
Dean licks his lips and reopens his eyes, grabs the base of Sam’s cock and sits back, burying Sam’s aching length in one perfect thrust. Sam sits up the rest of the way and wraps his arms around Dean’s waist, licking and biting at Dean’s nipples as Dean starts a slow rhythm, rolling his hips without pulling off at all, grinding the tip of Sam’s cock against his own sweet spot.  
  
“Fuck, baby,” Dean rasps. “Feels so good. So fuckin’ big, so deep…”  
  
Sam grunts and slides his hands down, palming Dean’s ass, fingers barely brushing where his stiff flesh is spitting his brother open wide. Dean growls and buries his hands in Sam’s hair, tugging just this side of painful, dropping his head, biting down hard on the crook of Sam’s shoulder.  
  
“Jesus _fuck_ ,” Sam gasps, churning his hips, pressing up inside Dean as far as possible. Dean hums in contentment and picks up the pace, riding Sam hard, grinding and circling, lifting and slamming back down randomly, never giving Sam a real chance to pick up his rhythm. Trust his brother to still be a controlling toppy shit while being the one getting fucked.  
  
“Close, little brother,” Dean murmurs against the skin behind Sam’s ear, licking then biting the sensitive flesh. Sam can’t even hope to stop the whimper that bubbles up from his throat. Fucker _knows_ what the whole _dirty-bad-wrong_ of this does to him. Dean pulls back, smirks, and slams their lips together. The combined taste of _them_ makes Sam’s cock throb inside the tight clench of Dean’s ass. “Gonna come for me, Sammy?” Dean whispers against his lips.  
  
Sam moans, fingers digging harder into the meat of Dean’s ass. Dean reaches down and grips his own cock, jerking himself fast and nearly brutal. A few tugs and Dean growls, release spilling between them, pearly-white streaks smearing up Sam’s chest, all the way to his collarbone. Sam trips over the edge right after, crying out as he clings to Dean, hips twitching as his cock pulses inside Dean.  
  
Sam collapses back against the mattress, chest heaving, still buried inside his brother. Dean smirks down at him, reaching out to smear his come into Sam’s skin. Sam wrinkles his nose and bats at Dean half-heartedly. But he doesn’t complain when Dean pushes two fingers inside his mouth, making sure to lick and suck, not wanting to miss a drop of Dean’s sweet-salty release.  
  
Dean eventually climbs off his lap and settles next to him, grabbing Sam’s t-shirt to clean them up – Dean is _so_ doing laundry in the morning just for that. For once, Dean doesn’t bitch or even grumble about Sam pulling him against his side for cuddles. Sam glances at the clock and sees that it’s a few minutes before midnight. Dean presses a kiss to the side of his lips, eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiles.  
  
“Happy anniversary, Sam.”  
  
All in all, Sam has to admit that it really was.


End file.
